


Dream Blue Haze

by explosionshark



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4176228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explosionshark/pseuds/explosionshark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Anyway,” she waited a beat until Chloe’s laughter died down. “Here’s ‘Wonderwall’-”</p><p>-</p><p>Max and Chloe pass the time on a rainy day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Blue Haze

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fic for tumblr user [nomtheburritos](http://nomtheburritos.tumblr.com/) (check her out for sick fanart, insightful analysis, and general loveliness). She requested 1) Max and Chloe dancing in the rain 2) Max playing guitar. Title from the Adventures song of the same name. 
> 
> Big thanks to [Kaelin](http://wussygirl.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing.

 

“I’m gonna punch Johnny Raines’ dick off,” Chloe vowed, hiking the collar of her jacket up over the back of her neck.

“Chloe,” Max sighed, struggling to keep up with Chloe’s longer stride, “you can’t just… run around punching the dicks off of weathermen you don’t like.”

“The hell I can’t!” Chloe declared, spinning on her heel to address Max.

“Chloe, for the love of god, please look where you’re going,” Max pleaded.

“Don’t tell me how to live my life,” Chloe shot back heedlessly, still walking backwards. “Look at this shit, Max. Look at it. Does this look like a twenty percent chance of ‘light showers’ to you?”

“Well-”

“NO,” Chloe interrupted, sweeping her arms dramatically. “No, this looks like ‘the heavens will open up and unleash a flood of _biblical portions-’_ ”

“You were excited about the rain until you tripped on your way out of the store and dropped your zig zags in the gutter!”

“Inconsequential! I was lied to by the establishment and someone has to pay.”

“With their dick?” Max laughed, giving up on trying to keep her amusement in check.

“With their _dick,_ ” Chloe nodded solemnly. “You’re starting to come around.”

“Yeah, well, you can be very persuasive,” Max grinned.

“Yeah? I- shit!” Chloe, predictably, lost her footing walking backwards on wet pavement when they hit an uneven section of sidewalk. She swayed backward, arms pinwheeling dramatically before she landed on her ass. “Owwww. Max, a little help?

“Goofball,” Max sighed under her breath, raising her arm and focusing until - _there,_ that pulling sensation and-

“-to come around.”

“Yeah,” Max played along, quickening her step half a pace. “Well… you can be very persuasive. And clumsy as hell.”

“What’s- _whoa!”_

Max reached out and caught hold of Chloe’s arm, steadying her before she could topple backwards.

“Shit,” Chloe laughed, rocking forward in Max’s hold and leaning into her. Her body was warm, even through their wet clothes. Max closed her eyes, imagining Chloe’s smile, trying to calm the fluttering in her stomach that came with the sensation of Chloe’s hot breath along her neck when Chloe leaned her forehead against Max’s shoulder. “Fell on my ass?”

“Fell on your ass,” Max confirmed.

“Thanks for the save, supergirl.”

“All in a day’s work, citizen.”

Chloe laughed against her skin again and this time Max couldn’t suppress her shiver. She bit her lip, waiting for Chloe’s smart ass comment, but it never came. Instead she felt Chloe raise her right hand to settle gently against Max’s back, the left coming to rest at Max’s hip. Her laughter faded into a hum, some tune Max couldn’t place as Chloe began to sway, gentle grip guiding Max to follow her motions.

“What are you doing?” Max swallowed, fighting the instinct to pull away.

“Daaancing,” Chloe said slowly, as if answering the stupidest question Max had ever asked. And, okay, fair point.

But still.

“Weren’t you the one rushing us home?” Max asked, twisting out of Chloe’s grip and dashing forward a few steps. “We’re getting soaked out here, Chloe.”

“Aw, c’mon, Max,” Chloe whined lunging for her again and appearing not at all discouraged as Max once again evaded her. “Like old times!”

“We’re gonna get sick!” Max protested, sprinting further down the street back towards the Prices’ house.

“I’m already sick, Max!” Chloe declared, catching up easily and seizing Max about the waist. “I’ve got… _dance fever.”_

“Oh my god, stop,” Max squirmed, finding Chloe’s hold harder to break out of this time. “Chloe, we look like idiots.”

“Is that what this is? Dude, we used to dance in the rain all the time! We even had a song about it, remember?”

Max grimaced, “Rain dancin’, rain dancin’, never feels like pain dancin’.”

“Oof,” Chloe shook her head. “Yeah, okay, we were really bad at writing songs.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Point _is,_ ” Chloe continued, “this was totally our thing!”

“Chloe we had a _million_ things.”

“And I wanna reclaim them all, so why not start here?”

“Because we’re adults now and it’s stupid.”

“Speak for yourself,” Chloe shot back, jabbing Max in the shoulder with her chin. “Look....”

“What?” Max asked, craning her neck to try and catch Chloe’s gaze. Which put her face right next to Chloe’s.

Which was fine.

Totally fine and the slow descent of rain drops down the slope of her cheek and across the sharp plane of her jaw was not at all distracting or-

“No, I mean, _look_. Like _around_ you.”

“Oh,” Max blinked, reacting a beat too slowly as she glanced around the neighborhood. “Okay, so… what am I looking for?”

“It doesn’t work that way, hipster,” Chloe teased. “What do you see?”

“Nothing?” Max asked after a moment, thoroughly confused by the weird turn this whole thing had taken.

“Exactly. Max, we’re the only two idiots still outside in all of this. So, dance with me.”

“Chloe,” Max sighed, feeling her resolve start to crumble in the face of Chloe’s earnestness.

“C’mon, how would lil baby Max feel knowing she grew up to be a Footloose villain?”

“Okay, I’m not saying _no one_ should dance. Besides that’s not even-”

“Uh, I believe your exact words were ‘no one should dance or know joy and puppies are illegal.’”

“Stop putting words in my mouth.”

“I put some words in your mom’s mouth last night.”

“ _Ew._ ”

“I know, I’m sorry, those jokes definitely don’t work when you actually know the person’s mom.”

Chloe loosened her hold enough to turn Max around in her arms until they were face to face. She took Max’s right hand in her own, dropping her left palm against Max’s hip.

“Okay?” she checked, smiling with this kind of delighted, radiant grin that lit up her whole face. For a moment, they were back in time, just two goofy kids standing in the rain without a care in the world.

“Okay,” Max whispered.

It was cold.

Her clothes had gone from damp to soaked, socks squelching in her shoes with every clumsy step.

She could barely feel her fingers and the next strong gust of wind was cold enough to set her teeth chattering.

But for a few dizzying moments, Max couldn’t bring herself to care.

 

x.x.x

 

“Huh,” Chloe said. Huffed really; a contemplative little rush of air against Max’s temple as they walked up the driveway.

“What?” Max asked.

The rain had gotten much worse, a shower of fat, heavy raindrops that almost stung the skin with the force of their impact and the bitterness of their cold. They were soaked through by this point - probably looking like a couple of drowned rats, Max thought. But the weight of Chloe’s arm draped across her shoulders and the warmth of her breath against Max’s hair when she spoke made the situation shockingly bearable.

“He’s not here,” Chloe elaborated, jerking her chin toward the empty space in the driveway.

The groan that slipped out of Max’s mouth when they finally make it inside was embarrassingly loud, but Max found it hard to care. _Warmth_. It was so nice, she kind of just wanted to sink down onto the floor and not move for a few hours.

Joyce barreled out of the kitchen before Max could follow through with her excellent plan, frowning severely and waving around a whisk dramatically.

“What in the Sam Hill do you girls think you’re doing outside in this kind of weather! It’s raining cats and dogs out there!”

Chloe burst out laughing, sagging back against the door to keep upright.

Max smiled sheepishly, “Hi Joyce.”

“Max,” Joyce tipped her head genially. “What’s gotten into that one?”

“You sound,” Chloe choked between fits of laughter, “God, Mom, you sound like Yosemite Sam.”

“You sound like a girl keen on skipping dinner,” Joyce threatened.

“Aw, what? No, no, no. Mom, c’mon, you know I didn’t mean it,” Chloe protested. “Max, tell her I didn’t mean it.”

“She didn’t mean it, Joyce,” Max echoed tolerantly, tilting her head so Chloe couldn’t see her roll her eyes.

“What are we having?” Chloe asked, sniffing the air curiously, like a dog. “Biscuits? Mashed potatoes?”

“Well, that’s certainly what Max and I are having,” Joyce smirked. “I don’t know about you.”

“Mooom,” Chloe whined.

“You girls ought to go get dry, you’ll catch your deaths in those wet clothes,” Joyce ignored her.

“Max, help,” Chloe pleaded.

“Apologize?” Max offered. “Go hug her or something.”

“Mom,” Chloe started, following Joyce into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around her. “Mom, I’m sorry I called you Yosemite Sam.”

“Get offa me!” Joyce complained, trying to twist out of Chloe’s freaky strong octopus grip. Max winced in sympathy. “You’re soaking wet.”

“Okay, okay,” Chloe backed off with a grin. “Do you forgive me? Do I get dinner?”

“Yes,” Joyce grumbled. “Now for god’s sake, go get cleaned up.”

“Fine, fine,” Chloe said, wandering back towards the stairs. “Hey, where’s step-d...ude. Step-Dude.”

“Chloe,” Joyce scolded sharply.

“What? I asked where David was!”

“You _asked-”_

“What? He _is_ a dude!”

Max winced, hoping Joyce would drop it before Chloe slipped up and unleashed whatever insulting nickname she had actually intended for David. “Will he be joining us later, Joyce? Chloe and I noticed his car wasn’t in the driveway on our way in.”

Joyce frowned severely at Chloe for a moment longer before sighing and turning her attention to Max. “As Head of Security, David was asked to stay late tonight to help with the flooding measures Blackwell is taking.”

“Flooding measures?” Max asked.

“Sandbagging, stuff like that,” Joyce nodded. “It’s going to be a pretty serious storm tonight, Max. You’re going to have to stay here, it won’t be safe to head back to Blackwell.”

“Scoooore,” Chloe sing-songed. “Slumber party.”

“Choe, get your butt in the shower before I change my mind about dinner.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Chloe grabbed Max around the arm and hauled her toward the stairs.

“Wait, let Max go first, I don’t want her catching cold and missing school on my conscience,” Joyce said.

“No!” Chloe called back.

“No?” Joyce echoed dangerously, walking to the base of the stairs to level a killer glare at Chloe.

“We’re gonna go at the same time. It conserves water, Max insists on it. She wants to save the earth!”

“She’s joking, Joyce,” Max rushed to assure her, elbowing Chloe hard in the ribs and trying to fight the rush of heat to her cheeks.

“No, I’m not!” Chloe shouted.

Max barely had enough time to shoot one last helpless look at Joyce before Chloe tightened her grip on Max’s arm, yanking the shorter girl into her room and slamming the door shut behind them.

 

x.x.x.

 

Chloe did let Max go first, eventually; though out of genuine courtesy or fear of Joyce’s retribution, Max couldn’t say.

Max showered quickly, despite the temptation posed by the stream of hot water on her chilled skin. Whatever other ludicrous lies Chloe might have been trying to embarrass her with, she was at least right about Max’s reluctance to murder the planet.

She passed the time waiting for Chloe to finish showering sprawled on Chloe’s bed, listening to some folk punk mix Chloe had made and flipping through a tattered book of Eileen Myles prose she’d found buried under a pile of junk in the corner.

Max heard Chloe enter but didn’t look up immediately, engrossed in the words she was reading.

“Hey,” she said after a beat, slipping her thumb against the page to mark her place as she eased the cover closed, “do you think I could borrow this?”

Max looked up to see Chloe, shirtless, sliding into a baggy pair of sweatpants; water droplets from the ends of her wet hair dripping onto her bare skin, leaving shimmering trails across her shoulders and chest.

“ _Chelsea Girls?_ ” Chloe smirked, popping smug eyebrow at Max’s choice of literature. “Pretty gay, Max.”

Max felt her heart stutter in her chest.

“Who isn’t?” Max mumbled, feeling a flush creep up her chest and flood her cheeks.

“What was that?” Chloe asked, smirking blooming into a full-on obnoxious _grin_. Interest piqued, she abandoned the task of clothing herself, dropping the shirt she’d been holding to the floor and taking a step toward Max on the bed.

God.

Why couldn’t she have just put on the _shirt?_

“I said ‘what isn’t?” Max backpedaled lamely, shifting from her side to flat on her back, hoping she could escape Chloe’s attention by dropping eye contact.

No luck.

_Of course._

“No, no, no,” Chloe pressed, crossing the room and throwing herself onto the bed next to Max. Max felt her body jolt with the force of Chloe’s impact, tried not to look as startled and panicked as she was beginning to feel. “You definitely said ‘who.’”

Max groaned, flinging an arm across her face to shield her eyes as Chloe threw a leg across her hips to hover over her on all fours.

“Maaaax,” Chloe sang, laughing aloud when Max tried to slap away the fingers prodding her sides. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

“No!” Max huffed, finally seizing each of Chloe’s wrists in her hands.

Chloe, for her part, relented; allowing Max to slowly guide her arms back to her sides. The obnoxious grin on Chloe’s face melted into something softer and she waited. Max felt pinned to the bed, even though Chloe was holding up her own weight. Her heart hammered in her chest, gaze flicking between Chloe’s eyes and the belly ring shining against the pale expanse of her stomach, like a beacon.

“I mean,” Max said, feeling her stomach do a queasy flip, “I don’t know?”

Chloe said nothing in response; just kept her gaze trained on Max’s flushed face, which didn’t really help with her nerves.

“That’s okay, right?” Max babbled, mostly because she couldn’t bear the silence between them. “Not knowing?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, voice kind of low and far away. “That’s totally okay.”

“So,” Max swallowed and paused, uncertain.

“What?” Chloe prompted.

“Do you think... you can, like, finish getting dressed now?”

Chloe broke into laughter, but dutifully slid off Max’s body. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Max muttered grumpily, raising herself onto her elbows.

“I just,” Chloe’s speech was interrupted by another peal of laughter. “This is the first time I’ve been half naked with a girl in my bed and been asked to put clothes back _on_.”

“Ugh,” Max grunted, kicking Chloe hard on the hip and feeling not at all guilty when she stumbled and stepped barefoot into a pile of trash she’d left on her floor. _Serves her right._

“Ow, shit,” Chloe inspected her foot, then shrugged and moved toward the closet.

“You’re the worst,” Max informed her, dropping her head back onto the bed; her heart was still pounding, head swimming hazily. She spread her arms out, fingertips brushing the edge of the book where she had discarded it earlier.

Chloe laughed again and finally, _mercifully_ , put on a goddamn shirt.

 

x.x.x.

 

Dinner with Joyce had been a surprisingly comfortable affair, without David.

There had been some tension, initially, with Chloe and Joyce trading snipes at each other across the dinner table and just being generally passive aggressive _as hell_. Max was pleased, however, with the success she’d had in deflecting and diffusing the worst of the hostility. Mostly it had been redirection, forcing herself to be uncharacteristically bold and interrupting both of them to change the subject.

By the end of the meal, things were surprisingly warm between the three of them. Comfortable. It felt so much like before that Max kept looking across the table, expecting to see William and feeling a fresh pang of loss each time his seat was empty.

Grateful for Joyce’s hospitality, Max volunteered herself and Chloe to clear the table and do the dishes. Chloe agreed with only a little prompting and overall it was a fairly successful endeavor.

Okay, so there had been one water fight that went terribly wrong; leading to four broken plates, one probably sprained wrist and an extremely necessary rewind.

Still overall better than Max would have predicted.

One thing that went _about_ as terribly as Max predicted was the weather.

She and Chloe hadn’t yet spent a full ten minutes back in her room before the power cut out.

“Fuck,” Chloe whined, hauling herself into a sitting position on the bed and stubbing out the joint she’d been lazily puffing. “My music.”

A flash of lighting briefly illuminated the room, followed by an ear-splitting crack of thunder.

Chloe flinched, then looked embarrassed. Max pretended not to notice.

Chloe rose from the bed, swiping her phone off the nightstand and angling the illuminated screen down toward the ground.

“What are you doing?” Max asked.

“Gonna find some candles,” Chloe answered, shuffling carefully around the various piles of junk on the floor.

“I’ll go with you,” Max offered, moving to stand.

“Nah, stay here,” Chloe said. “If I’m not back in five, avenge me.”

Max waited until Chloe exited the room before rising from the desk where she’d been futilely trying to work on homework. She slid the cracked window all the way shut, deciding that trapping herself in a stuffy room filled with pot smoke was preferable to freezing off her extremities.

Max felt her way over to the bed in the darkness, dropping down onto the mattress when her hand made contact with the fabric of Chloe’s comforter. The blankets were still warm from Chloe’s body heat, smelling of weed and her shampoo; Max glanced surreptitiously around the empty room before drawing them across her body.

She was struck again by one of those weird senses of deja vu. Sleepovers at Chloe’s certainly weren’t anything new, and yet everything felt so different. It was always surreal to consider how much things could change while staying the same.

Chloe’s abrupt return drew Max from her reverie before she could get too melancholic.

“That’s _not_ a candle,” Max pointed out unnecessarily, eyeing the guitar in Chloe’s grip with confusion.

“Thanks, genius,” Chloe drawled sarcastically. “I found it while I was looking for flashlights and shit. C’mon, David’s not here to throw a bitch-fit, we’re gonna go downstairs and burn it for firewood.”

Not for the first time, Max found herself terrifyingly unsure of Chloe’s intent. The line between obvious joke and ill-conceived scheme was perpetually blurred with her.

“That was a _joke_ , Maxi-pad,” Chloe clarified.

She set the guitar beside Max on the bed and dashed back out into the hall, returning moments later bearing two ludicrously small scented candles.

“What do you think,” Chloe asked, waving the candles around, “are we feeling cinnamon apple or tropical sunset tonight?”

“Those both sound terrible,” Max said, sitting up and examining the guitar.

“Your attitude is terrible,” Chloe said taking an experimental whiff of both candles. “You’ve lost choosing privileges. We’re doing both.”

Max grimaced but didn’t bother trying to talk Chloe out of that particular terrible decision. She’d re-learned the valuable art of choosing her battles, since coming back into Chloe’s life.

“What’s with the guitar?” Max asked. It might have been nice, once, Max noted idly as she ran her fingers down a chip in the neck. She strummed once, experimentally, and cringed at the discordant chime she produced.

“Like I said, I found it when I was looking for lights. I thought you could play it, since the power outage killed our tunes. Not if it’s gonna sound like _that_ , though.”

“It’s out of tune, dipshit,” Max said, cranking one of the tuning keys and plucking at the corresponding string tentatively. “God, these strings are really old. Where’d you get this?”

“It was mine,” Chloe said. She finished lighting the candles and sat on the bed across from Max. “Can you tune it?”

“I think so,” Max said.

“Play me something.”

“In a minute,” she promised. “Let me work on it.”

The warm amber light from the candles was spare, but Chloe looked beautiful in it all the same; eager, carefree, intent on Max. It filled her chest up with something restless and light, made her fingers clumsy against the strings.

“I didn’t know you played guitar,” Max said, to distract herself.

“I don’t.”

“Rachel?” Max guessed, biting back a sigh.

“No,” Chloe answered. “C’mon, it’s not like everything in my life revolves around Rachel.”

Max glanced up, wry smirk twisting her mouth. “I _mean_ …”

Chloe kicked her.

“Okay,” Max laughed, shooting Chloe a placating smile. “Tell me the story of the guitar, then.”

“Not much to tell,” Chloe shrugged. “I begged for one last summer because I thought I was gonna learn three chords, move to Olympia, and singlehandedly revive the riot grrrl scene.”

“Go big or go home, right?” Max said. “So what happened?”

“I had other shit to do,” Chloe said, dropping her gaze to the bed. She twisted the sheets around her fingers absently. “Wasn’t any good at it anyway. I got tired of catching shit from David whenever I tried to practice.”

Max bit her lip, “Do you still want to learn?”

Chloe looked up, face unreadable.

“I could teach you,” Max found herself blushing. She felt silly, like maybe she shouldn’t have offered. Too late to back out now, though. “You could swing by the dorm, we could do lessons there. I’ve never taught anyone before, but I probably could. You seem like you’d be good at it.”

“That sounds… nice,” Chloe admitted. It was hard to see in the dim light but her cheeks were _definitely_ a little pinker, Max was sure. “I might take you up on it.”

Max nodded falling into silence as she continued trying to tune the corroded strings.

“Why did you say that?” Chloe asked, after a beat.

“Say what?”

“That you think I’d be good at it.”

“Oh.”

Chloe had these long, nimble fingers; strong hands that looked like they were built to fit around the neck of a guitar, or atop a row of piano keys. And it was so easy to imagine Chloe in the scenario she’d created - rocking out on some stage somewhere, passionate and free, spilling her guts for sweaty crowds of rowdy fans.

“I don’t know,” Max said. “You just seem that way. Music can be really expressive, you know? And you’re someone with a lot to express.”

“Is that a polite way of saying you think I’m totally fucked up?” Chloe’s tone was light, and humorous, but Max could sense the edge of doubt in her voice.

“It’s my _sincere_ way of pointing out you have a lot to say to the world, Chloe Price,” Max answered. “You just need to find a way to do it that doesn’t carry community service terms.”

“Ugh,” Chloe groaned. “You draw _one_ giant dick on a billboard…”

“You definitely didn’t stop at one.”

“Well until the ABPD can prove otherwise, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

Max shook her head, tested the tuning a final time. “Okay, I think I got it.”

“Oooh,” Chloe clapped excitedly. “Play ‘Freebird!’”

Max rolled her eyes and strummed out the opening chords.

“Holy shit, you’re doing it.”

“Not really,” Max stopped. “I only know the intro.”

Chloe laughed, falling back onto the bed. She twisted her long body around Max to grab a pillow from the top of the bed. “Just play whatever you want.”

She fell into a little melody, nothing fancy, just something she found herself coming back to whenever she let her mind wander. It was different on these old strings; a bit duller, a little harder to play, but it didn’t sound terrible. She glanced nervously down at Chloe for her reaction and found her transfixed with the motion of Max’s fingers as she played.

“When did you learn to play?” Chloe asked, voice soft.

“A few years ago,” Max said, vaguely.

“What made you start?” Chloe pressed.

“A boy,” Max laughed, embarrassed.

“Okay, you know you’re going to have to tell that whole story,” Chloe insisted, eyes narrowed. Her voice was a little tighter.

“His name was Gus.”

“You fell for a guy named fucking _Gus_?” Chloe scoffed.

Max smirked at the note of genuine offense in Chloe’s voice, “Are you going to let me actually tell the story?”

“Fine, fine. I just can’t - _Gus_. Okay.”

Max wondered if hearing about Gus made Chloe feel the way she did when she had to listen to Chloe go on about Rachel Amber; like she’d swallowed a handful of marbles that were just grinding around in the pit of her stomach.

“So, _Gus_ ,” Max teased, “lived across the street from us, in Seattle. He was so cool. His band was called Generation Y-Me.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know. _I know_ , shut up. Anyway, I just… really desperately wanted him to notice me, but we didn’t have anything in common. So, I thought I’d learn guitar. And I did. And that’s that.”

“That is _not_ that,” Chloe insisted. “C’mon, gimme the dirt. Did anything ever happen?”

“With Gus?”

“No, with your mom and the hot poolboy. _Yes_  with Gus, you asshole.”

“We didn’t have a pool or a poolboy,” Max said. “And, no.”

“I don’t believe you,” Chloe said flatly. “You answered too fast, and you’re doing that thing you do when you lie?”

“What thing?”

“You look to the left and go kinda wide-eyed and it's super obvious.”

“Okay,” Max sighed. “Well, there was this one time. We were at this party, right? Our moms became friends, I think she made him ask me. Super embarrassing, but, y’know, I thought ‘this is my chance, I’m not gonna let it pass.’”

“And what happened?”

“Well, his girlfriend broke up with him. Very publicly. Then he got really drunk and fell into the bushes.”

“Tell me there’s video footage of this.”

“There isn’t. But after that he _did_ start talking to me. I helped him pull leaves out of his hair and then we started talking about music and then we went up to his room so he could show me his guitar.”

“And?”

“And he played half an Oasis song and tried to cop a feel.”

“Wait, what? What did you _do_?” Chloe demanded, sounding genuinely furious.

“I,” Max paused, taking a deep breath. “I punched him in the nose.”

“ _What_?” Chloe burst out laughing. “Oh my _god_. Go baby Max!”

“I completely freaked out,” Max admitted covering her face with her hands. “I just _hit him_ and then I screamed an apology and ran out of there. I left my friends behind. They were pissed, too; until the next day when they got the whole story. Then they just wanted to kick his ass.”

“Good,” Chloe nodded. “I’d go find him and lay the smackdown right now. I mean, if you hadn’t already beaten me to the punch. Literally, I guess.”

Max groaned and shifted back on the bed, to lean her back against the wall.

“So, what about after? Did he tell anyone what happened?”

“No,” Max shook her head. “His nose was pretty busted. I guess he told everyone that he was drunk and he didn’t remember what happened. I think he was lying though.”

“Why?”

“Because he avoided me in the halls the rest of the year,” Max grinned when Chloe broke into a fresh peel of laughter.

“Anyway,” she waited a beat until Chloe’s laughter died down. “Here’s ‘Wonderwall’-”

The pillow Chloe immediately launched at her face was heavier than she expected it to be.

 

x.x.x

 

Max woke up in the tangle of Chloe’s arms, to the sensation of Chloe’s breath on the back of neck.

The sound of rain on the roof had faded to a light tapping, bright grey light filtered in through the slats of the blinds.

Max thought about her camera on the other side of the room. She could get up, head outside - wait for the skies to clear and the inevitable rainbow. There were some cool shots just waiting to be captured she was sure.

“Why are you awake,” Chloe mumbled sleepily into her hair. She tightened her grip around Max’s middle and shifted her weight, leaning into Max more fully.

“How’d you know I was awake?” Max asked, a little baffled.

“Breathing more… different,” she grunted.

Max grinned. Sleepy Chloe was adorable.

“I was thinking about getting up.”

Chloe groaned.

“Taking some pictures…”

“No,” Chloe sighed into her skin, lips brushing the soft hairs on the nape of Max’s neck.

Max bit her lip, feeling more awake now than ever. “No?”

“No,” Chloe affirmed. She slid the leg draped over Max’s thigh higher up her body, to lock over her hips. “Sleep. Okay?”

“Okay,” Max breathed.

She found Chloe’s hands clasped around her stomach and twined their fingers together.

“Okay.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Still (theoretically?) taking writing prompts on [my tumblr](http://explosionshark.tumblr.com/). Hit me up if you want something written.


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